CinderElla?
by Red Crow
Summary: A Cinderella who is a boy, who hates his appearance, and is very sarcastic. I think I've said enough. This is an apology for being so slow in updating. Reviews make the world go round, SO REVIEW!


Cinder-_ella?_

**This was my project for school. Sorry for not updating for a while, but stress, plus short attention span, plus college applications is not a good thing. I'm FREAKING OUT HERE! What if I don't get accepted into any college? Oh, please help me GOD!**

Disclaimer: I don't own Cinderella or Rapunzell. Read.

My name is Cinderella, and I love my life so very much that it's all I can do not to jump up and sing! See, I even say it with a big old smile on my face! I just…

You know what, frick this! No freaken way am I saying this bull. I am Aschen, and I am a proud and strong man! It doesn't matter how short I am, or how pretty I am, or how I wear a freaken dress! I am a man, and I refuse to say any of this bull! No matter what my witch of a step-mother says. That witch just loves to make my life heck.

Well, I guess this is my story, and you better read it. After all, I was forced to wear a freaken dress when my dad died, so yeah, I think the least you people can do is read this. After all, it's not like you people knew I was a boy and laughed at me whenever you saw me in a dress. Right? Oh, why are you all looking away with guilty eyes? Are you guilty about something? Oh, really, you'll read my story? Well thank you, it is the least you could do for all the stuff you let that witch of a woman put me through. So here, read about my pathetic family and life.

I love waking up in the morning, especially after having gone to bed without having eaten anything, and having had to work my tail off for a woman that I hate as much as summer hates winter. Yeah, I know I'm sarcastic. So what, live with it, it's either sarcasm or I break down into a heap and cry my little eyes out. And I'm sure no one wants to see that.

I groan and get up, hating it when my hair swishes against my legs. Ugh, if only I could cut it. But that b-witch of a step-mother cast a spell so that I could never cut it. And it's getting longer. Pretty soon I won't be able to walk without tripping over my own hair! But hey, at least it's shorter than Punzell's. His grandma won't even let him out of his tower, saying that such a pretty and fragile girl as him should not be out in the cruel world. Of course she is more than a little crazy, after all, Punz may be pretty, but there is no way he can pull off a dress, especially since he hit his growth spurt. She still keeps him inside the tower with some magic of her own. Punz once told me that she was some magical something, a witch or a fairy, I don't know which. But at least I know the truth, people, especially old women 'cough, my step-mother, cough-Punz's grandma-cough'. Yeah, people sure are crazy.

I was about to tell more about my oh so wonderful life, until I heard a scream and a crash coming from down stairs. I grinned. It looked like they'd woken up to my little surprise. They really should learn not to mess with the person who made their food and face-masks and clothes and decorated their house. After all, there are a lot of herbs that can make a person become as red as a tomato, and not just from blushing.

I couldn't stop myself from snickering. The pimples would make all three of them the ugliest of them all. And since the ball was in two days, they would freak out like the headless chickens they were inside. It would be so fun!

Sigh, if only I could see them getting humiliated. Oh well, I would just have to make do with watching them insult and belittle each-other at home. And maybe I would curse my beautiful mother for having such strong genetics, and my handsome father for having such weak ones too. I mean, a man should at least have genetics strong enough to be able to produce a manly son. But noooo, my father had to let me be born looking like a pretty, pretty princess! Sick bastard, if he were still alive, I'd hang him by his feet from one of the towers till he apologized. But from what he was like before died, he would probably just laugh and say how much fun he was having. Man, why did my father have to be such a child inside? Oh well, can't do anything to the dead.

Sigh, might as well get up and go downstairs. Che, I'm tired of telling the story, God or whatever higher power can tell you some of it now.

**- Okay, I guess you can call me higher power, or narrator I guess. Even though Aschen just forced the book into my hands against my will, I might as well tell the story. And oh yes, this is a place outside of the story, so I can't really do anything at all, though I would love to make Aschen fall into a pit of mud and pig poop. Oh well, on to the story! -**

Aschen wore a dark brown work dress, and had long blond hair from his mother. He would be the perfect girl, if he wasn't a man, and if he didn't have such a foul mouth, and if he didn't have such a temper, and if he didn't have a look in his brown eyes that said he would kill you in an instant. Other than that, he would have been a perfect girl. And he hated it.

Many would find humor in watching as the small boy did chores and thought horrible thoughts for his-though beautiful-spoiled family.

His family consisted of his step-mother and her two daughters. They all were beautiful, with the same dark brown hair and light green eyes and sweet faces. The mother was tall and statuesque, like a goddess from olden times. Her name was Christell Tremaine.

Her oldest daughter was Anastasia, and she was a little bit too thin, believing that to be beautiful one had to be as thin as a reed. Of course no human could ever be as thin as a reed without killing themselves, so she was nowhere near that.

Her youngest daughter was Drizella, and she was a bit too plump, which caused Aschen to have to create new dresses for her regularly. She loved to eat, plain and simple, and if she thought that there was never-ending food in it, she would go to the desert and never leave.

The three women could be seen as family, but Aschen or Cinderella as they called him, was obviously from a different family. He had blue eyes and blond hair from his mother, though he had a temper that no one had ever seen before. Though some thought that it must have come from his grandmother on his mother's side. That woman was as fierce as an eagle, and as stubborn as a hundred pound boulder.

They are a very different set of people, as can be seen by how they make Cinderella clean and serve them.

**- Though he has a mouth on him, he really does have a pitiable life. But just to spite him, I'll call him Cinderella! Oh well, back to the story. -**

Cinderella stepped into his stepmother's room, noticing that his stepsisters were there as well. And that all three women had their hands covering their faces. He had to try very hard not to laugh at the red splotches and disgusting pimples that he could see.

''Hello stepmother, whatever is the matter?'' he asked innocently, though one could hear a note of vindictive pleasure in his voice if they listened carefully.

Stepmother glared at him, and shrieked. ''What did you do you worm!'' she demanded, glaring at him while pointing at the faces of her daughters.

Drizella was crying, but Anastasia seemed to be too numb for words. Just staring into her hand mirror, pale and full of horror.

If Cinderella had been much nicer, then he would have felt just a hint of pity for his stepfamily. After all, they would soon have to go to a ball and let the world and the royal family look upon their hideous faces. But Cinderella was not nice, and he was not feeling any kind or empathetic feelings for his family at all.

''What do you mean stepmother?'' he asked innocently, tilting his head to the side. He was the perfect picture of innocence, though inside he was grinning cruelly and cackling in amusement.

''This!'' she screamed, pointing to her face, ignoring the sobs of Drizella. ''These abominable welts on our faces! You did it, and I demand that you undo this spell now! Or I will make you suffer boy!'' she hissed menacingly.

Cinderella trembled, on the outside. ''B-but stepmother, you know as well as ii do that I have no magic inside me. After all, when you saw me, you knew instantly that I had no magic, and all the amazing things that I had thought I had done were in fact done by my father.'' He said demurely, looking at the floor in shyness. ''Not that even if I had magic, I could possibly strong as either Drizella or Anastasia. After all, they have such strong magic that they can lift cups! Of course so that I do not feel too bad, they immediately drop the cups and fall in pretend tiredness that takes them days to recover from. I could never be as strong as them.'' He had to keep himself from looking at her snidely, though he couldn't keep the smirk from his eyes.

She saw, and she shuddered. At that moment she knew that he knew. He knew that he was powerful in magic; he knew that he could kill her, if she ever lost her hold on his magic. Thank God she had locked his power away when she first arrived and saw him.

So lost in her thoughts was she, that she didn't see Anastasia finally come out of her haze.

With rage in her eyes, the older daughter stomped toward Cinderella with a scream. ''You harlot! How dare you do this to me!'' she yelled, pulling him by his dress. ''Change me back! I have to meet the prince!'' she screamed, directly in his face.

Cinderella glared at her, and in shock she let go. She had never seen the boy defend himself before, and the look in his eyes frightened her more than a little.

''I am so very sorry Anastasia, but I do not know how this came to be. If I did, I would tell you, as I would never wish such a fate on one who could one day be the future queen.'' He said the meek little mouse once again.

''Mother! Can't you fix this with your magic?'' Drizella whined tearfully.

Her mother glared at Cinderella. ''Of course I can, but it will take time, time that we do not have! We must find beautiful dresses for the ball!'' she snapped, but then she became silent with a thoughtful expression. ''Unless…'' she murmured. She looked at Cinderella, and grinned like a wolf.

''Boy, _you _will make our dresses! And if they are not beautiful, then I will have you thrown into the kingdoms jail! It's about time you made yourself useful.'' She said cruelly.

Cinderella looked at her in shock. The heck! The heck did she mean he was useless? Stupid witch, he freaken cooked and cleaned for them all the time! What the frick did she mean by that!

**- Well, I suppose you know that he worked and made beautiful dresses for his stepfamily. So really, I'll just go to the day of the ball. After all, you probably don't want to know what happened as he worked on making the dresses and the mother worked on making an antidote for the acne on her and her daughter' faces. Well, back to the story, and on to the ball! -**

Cinderella watched his family head out to the carriage.

''Don't you dare mess up my house!'' stepmother snapped at him. Then she flounced to face her daughters. ''My you two look lovely. The prince might decide to have two queens once he sees you.'' She said proudly.

She was right; Drizella and Anastasia did look beautiful. And it was all thanks to Cinderella. For Anastasia he had made a beautiful gown of the lightest and softest blue silk. It accentuated her small waist and made her appear much more graceful than she truly was. Her hair had been put up in intricate braids and curls, falling to frame the sides of her face.

Drizella wore a light red gown full of ruffles and curls. She did not look so overweight now and had a warm and promising glow, her figure being shown to its best. Her hair was in beautiful clips, tumbling down her back in graceful dark curls.

The two of them looked beautiful, with the perfectly applied make up and wearing gowns that made their faults look like attributes.

Cinderella had done a wonderful job, but had he been thanked, no, not at all.

Stupid family.

He stood in the doorway, watching the carriage carry them off to the castle for a time full of dancing and laughter. He actually felt bad for the prince. If he picked one of his stepsisters for his bride, then he would surely know the face of hell for the rest of his mortal years.

He sighed, oh well, it wasn't his problem. And with that thought in mind, he went outside to sit under the tree in the back garden.

He found the tree, and had just sat down, when a bright light appeared above him, making him have to close his eyes.

He opened his eyes after a minute, looked up, and stared with wide eyes.

In front of him, floating in the air was a small old woman with wings and a wand! She had on a deep blue gown that glittered as if imbedded with pearls and diamonds. He swallowed because as soon as he saw her, he knew he was in trouble. She was a fairy, and an old woman. That was not good at all.

After a few minutes, his beliefs were proved right. He didn't know how, but the fairy had put him in a beautiful black dress with silver frills. He wore beautiful black glass slippers, and his golden hair was so beautiful that it could have counted as art. And he was wearing a freaken corset! Why the heck was this happening to him?

He was about to rip the dress and slippers off, but before he could, he was grabbed by the mice become men, and shoved into the carriage!

''HELP ME!'' The screamed words were heard in the kingdom as the beautiful white carriage that had once been a pumpkin rolled to the ball, with a very reluctant Cinderella inside.

**- Hahaha, oh, I love what happens to this child. Sigh, oh well, let's get back to the story? What? Cinderella, what are you doing with that hammer? No, don't hit me, I'm a higher being, you don't attack higher beings! Aaaaahhhhhhhh! -**

_**- Okay, I'm telling the story again, and the narrator has had an unfortunate accident. Well, back to the story. -**_

The ball was horrible, and not just because I was wearing a dress. What was with all the people staring at me? Sheesh, had they never seen a pretty girl in a beautiful gown before? Well, I am the prettiest girl around, even though I am a boy. Wonder what that says about the women if a boy is prettier than them?

Well, at least no one would come up to me where I stood against the wall in the shadows. This was boring, and I wanted to leave. But that stupid fairy had said that the gown and slippers wouldn't let me leave until midnight.

Whatever, I was about to go outside to get away from the crowd, when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

I looked up and stared. There, with the same long golden hair and dark green eyes, was the prince. But I knew him too!

''Punzell?''

''Aschen?''

Clearly, the disbelief could be heard in both of our voices. After all, it's not every day you meet your best friend that you haven't seen in three years in a ball. Wow, okay, my brain is frozen, so this part of the story ends here. Maybe I'll tell you the rest later.

**Cliffhanger...aren't I awful? I plan to make this a series. But might not start the next until the whole graduation and college thing is worked out.**


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